


who is that girl i see

by daisylincs



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Bahrain, Angst, Gen, Introspection, Post-Bahrain (Agents of SHIELD), Pre-Canon, no happy ending, pure angst, this one hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25842097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisylincs/pseuds/daisylincs
Summary: Melinda stared blankly into the mirror, and she didn’t recognise the face that looked back at her.
Relationships: Melinda May & Andrew Garner, Melinda May & Katya Belyakov
Comments: 14
Kudos: 18





	who is that girl i see

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not ready for Agents of SHIELD to be over!! I’m not ready at ALL… And, apparently, that manifests itself in writing pure, soul-shattering angst. Seriously, this is just angst. Angst, angst, angst and even more angst, with not even a _hint_ of a happy ending. 
> 
> No season 7 spoilers, so if you’re not caught up, you don’t have to worry about reading this. The only episode this really has spoilers for is 2x17, Melinda. And _boy,_ does it have spoilers for that!
> 
> This is set immediately after Bahrain, and follows May through the thought process that led her to take on that desk job. Like I said… pure angst. Probably the same amount of angst I feel because Agents of SHIELD is ending tomorrow!! Forever!! I just… I am SO far from ready, you guys, it’s _awful._ *sobs* Here, have some angst.

Melinda stared blankly into the mirror, and she didn’t recognise the face that looked back at her. 

That was the face of a woman who had killed a child. Who had put a gun against a little girl’s head and pulled the trigger.

She could tell herself that it hadn’t happened quite like that, that there had been no other way all she wanted. But it didn’t matter.

She had killed a _child._

She couldn’t stop seeing the girl’s face - not as it had been in the warehouse, twisted and insane with too much power, but as it had been in the medina. 

Screaming. Terrified.

A _child._

“You did good,” Phil had told her. But she _hadn’t._

“Let the girl go,” he had said. But how _could_ she?

Every step, every move, every _breath_ reminded her of how the girl wasn’t stepping, wasn’t moving, wasn’t breathing - because of _her._

And they could say there had been no other choice all they wanted, but Melinda knew. There was something else she could have done, if she had only had more _time…_

She could have _fixed_ it -

She could have _saved_ her -

The girl could have still been _alive_ \- 

She took a shuddering breath, noticing that there was blood on her face. Still. 

Reaching for a flannel, she started to scrub at the spots of blood on her cheek - but instead of cleaning it away, it just spread the blood further over her face, and the more she tried to scrub at it, the more it spread, running and smearing and thickening over her face until all she could see was red, red, _red_ \--

“Melinda!” She heard Andrew’s voice as though from very far away, and the next thing she knew, he was putting a hand on her shoulder.

She leapt away, feeling her entire body freeze up, the girl’s smile burning into her mind again. 

Andrew held out his hand, calm and placating, and her vision swam in front of her as his skin flickered, seeming to change colour under the fluorescent lighting.

Andrew wasn’t Andrew, he was the little girl. His smile wasn’t his, it was wide and insane. And his hand… it wasn’t him reaching for her, to comfort and to calm, it was her, her fingers grabbing towards Melinda - _give me your pain. Give me your pain._

“Get away from me,” she said, a ragged plea.

“Melinda, you were crying,” he said, his eyes soft and full of concern. “You were crying about blood, and red, and a girl, and when I came in here you were scrubbing your face so hard I thought you might actually start bleeding.”

“I’m already bleeding,” she said, and nothing had ever felt more true. 

“Melinda, no, you’re not,” Andrew said, still in that gentle voice, obviously trying to ground her.

It wasn’t working, because she was bleeding. Every part of her was bleeding; with guilt and regret and self-hatred. 

“Melinda,” Andrew said her name again, and when she didn’t react, louder, “Melinda!”

_Melinda._

She didn’t know if she could be _Melinda_ again. 

Melinda was a girl who had laughed and teased her partner about his nonexistent game, who had pulled pranks on her fellow agents just to see the looks on their faces, who had planned for a future and a daughter and a life with her husband, who had laughed like there was nothing she did better.

She didn’t think she could ever laugh again.

And how could she _ever_ think of building a life after this? 

She was a child-killer. She _murdered_ children.

“Andrew,” she said, and her voice felt like shards of glass in her throat, “I want a divorce.”

He looked like she had punched him in the gut. “Wh-what?”

Then his gaze softened. “Melinda… You’re not thinking straight.”

“I am,” she interrupted before he could explain to her _why_ she wasn’t. “Yes, I am. I want a divorce. And I want… I want to be reassigned.”

“Reassigned?” Andrew repeated faintly, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. _“You_ want to be _reassigned?”_

“To filing duty.”

He shook his head slowly, incredulous. “Melinda…”

“Don’t call me that,” was all she said as she turned and left the room. 

For a moment, she thought he was going to follow her, but he didn’t.

Her heart wanted to ache, but it was like she had lost some crucial part of her, and it just felt like another dull pain on top of all the rest.

It was better this way. 

There was no way she could ever have built that family with Andrew, after all. She had murdered a child - she wasn’t fit to raise one. Ever.

It was better like this, where she didn’t have to be someone she wasn’t anymore, where she didn’t have to smile or laugh or do anything much beyond greet her coworkers.

She didn’t have to be Melinda.

Because the truth was… she wasn’t. 

She didn’t see how she could ever be again. 

Letting out a long, slow breath, May sat down behind the cubicle and reached for the first file.


End file.
